Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ethiopia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Chrome to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Slave. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harmonia,
Amazonics,
Alice Coltrane,
Fad Gadget,
The Fortunes,
The Walker Brothers,
Grey Daturas,
The Toasters,
Trumans Water,
The Slits,
ABC,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lucky Dragons,
The Trojans,
Essential Logic,
Moss Icon,
The Barracudas,
Metal Thangz,
Bill Near,
Alison Limerick,
Neu!,
Joy Division,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
David Bowie,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Offenders,
DNA,
John Lydon,
Barry Ungar,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang Green,
Eve St. Jones,
Davy DMX,
Siglo XX,
Terrestrial Tones,
Harpers Bizarre,
OOIOO,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yellowson,
Bobby Sherman,
The Selecter,
Todd Terry,
Rites of Spring,
Alton Ellis,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cecil Taylor,
Skaos,
Stereo Dub,
Los Fastidios,
La Düsseldorf,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tres Demented,
June of 44,
Robert Wyatt,
Tears for Fears,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.